Saints of the Sinners
by xSeshatx
Summary: {Oneshot} An explosion goes off as Peter and Ned are walking home from school. Why is his life as Peter more dangerous than his life as Spider-Man? (Part 12 of the Peter Parker: Future Hearts series)


When Peter was just Peter and something happened, he freaked out. It was mostly an internal freak out, but a freak out, nonetheless. There was always a small panic that somebody figured out who he was and were now trying to take him out. Now that the world knew he was Tony Stark's kid, there was the chance that somebody was going to use him (or try to) as leverage. Again.

At any moment, his entire life could turn upside down once again. At any given second in time, his identity as Spider-Man could come out. That would put him on the radar. If the wrong people found out his identity, people would be coming after him for more than just Tony Stark money. That would put Ned and MJ at risk. Actually, it would likely put his entire school at risk. He wouldn't be able to go to school anymore, public or private. Maybe the government would want to get involved. Children's services would _definitely_ get involved. Would he even be allowed to live with Tony if anybody found out?

Because of this, when an explosion went off in the building he was walking next to on his way to Ned's house after school, he almost lost his cool. He was mostly just minding his business, talking excitedly to Ned about some Lego creation they planned on building together while he was visiting. His phone was forgotten in his pocket, his bag was hanging lazily off of his arm, and being Spider-Man was not on his to-do list because he had a good day at school and had a good day after school planned.

He was walking with Ned, so Ned was his first priority. There were other people around, too, but this was his best friend. He couldn't save everybody. He felt the unease grow in his stomach moments before he grabbed Ned by the shoulders and pulled him to the ground with his body covering his friend's head. The explosion went off before they made it to the ground. It was loud.

His ears were ringing too much to hear the screams of the people running for their lives, literally. He looked at Ned to check for any obvious injuries. Ned was talking to him, but he couldn't hear it. When he only saw some minor scratches, likely from flying debris, he pulled the two of them to their feet and he ran, dragging a confused and terrified Ned behind him. He ran two blocks before he let go of Ned with a quick 'sorry' and he ran back in the direction of the flames. And the screaming. The shouting. The fear.

There were three dead bodies only feet away from where he and Ned had been walking.

He didn't have time to dig in his backpack for his mask. Or his web shooters. He took them off because he was too warm for a long sleeve shirt or a jacket (in February, too, which was annoying. This weather needed to figure itself out. It can't be cold one day, warm the next, back to cold, stormy another day (thanks, Thor), cold, and then sixty degrees). So, he went in without a suit for protection, a mask for anonymity, or web shooters for defense. There were people there that couldn't handle situations like this as well as he could. There were people who were hurt and couldn't run away. There might have been people trapped that couldn't get out. He was in a position to help, so he was going to help – as Peter Parker.

His ears stopped ringing less than a minute after the explosion went off. Everything was still muffled, but he could hear the screaming now. He could hear the cries for help. There was a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, who was sitting against a tree only a few feet away from the building that had blown up. She was just screaming endlessly. Blood ran down the side of her face which was the first thing he noticed about her physically. He got only a little annoyed by the screaming that wouldn't stop for half a second before he reminded himself that most people didn't face terror like this on a daily basis. But then he noticed that she was missing a huge part of her arm. She had her elbow, but only barely. The wound was spewing blood. That put him in panic mode, too.

Peter jumped into first-aid mode and took off his shirt and ripped some cloth from it. "Please help me help you," he said to her, and she stopped screaming. She looked at him with horror in her eyes. He put half of the ripped shirt on the stump and pressed hard. "Grab this with your other hand and hold is there as tight as you can, okay? I know it hurts." She surprisingly did what he asked, holding the shirt there weakly which was better than nothing. He took the part he ripped away and wrapped it around her arm above the elbow. He knew how to tie a tourniquet, though he didn't exactly have much practice in that area. He tied it as tight as he could without using too much of his strength and she let out a loud cry, but thankfully, she didn't start screaming again. He pulled her to her feet and all-but carried her to safety some yards away. Another bystander who hadn't been close enough to the blast saw him running with her and assisted in carrying her away, so he let go and returned back to the building.

He was really just one more traumatic experience away from a full-on mental breakdown. If he saw one more dead body or one more person missing _a limb_, he would lose it.

In the midst of all the panic, all the injured civilians, all the blood and screams, all the rescuing people from the fire, Peter looked up and made eye contact with a man he recognized instantly. His longish black hair, pale skin, and wide eyes stood out from the crowd because he wasn't moving while everybody around him was running. Peter and him held eye contact only for a moment before Peter went back to what he was doing; helping an elderly man limp away from the fire. He hadn't been too hurt, but he was maybe in his seventies and couldn't move as quickly as everybody else.

While the adrenaline was pushing him back towards the fire each time after he escorted somebody away from it, his mind was trying to process. There was an explosion. What caused the explosion? Was it terrorism? Was it an accident? Was somebody after _him_? Why didn't his sense warm him until it was almost too late? His head hurt from the noise. It hurt so bad that he was also nauseous. And he wasn't too busy to be bitter about the fact that even with all that adrenaline, he could still feel those pains.

The next time Peter looked up to where Loki had been, he saw that the man was gone. It was around this time that the first responders started to arrive. Police officers, paramedics, and fire fighters were all pulling up. Police were trying to push back the groups of people to give everybody room, the ambulances were already working on the wounded who had been helped away (Peter wasn't the only person helping, but he was admittedly the quickest and most useful), and firefighters were hooking up the hoses to the hydrants to put out the fire. He wanted nothing more than to take a break from what he was doing, but he couldn't stop yet. Not many first responders arrived yet. They were still short-handed.

Peter saw Loki again when he turned back to the building. Loki wasn't doing much for the injured people, but he was working on calming down the screaming people and push them away from the destruction. He had his hands up and was talking loudly but with a calm voice. Peter didn't want to take the time to figure out how he got away from the other Avengers to be all the way out to Queens. Instead, he was just grateful to see somebody he knew, albeit barely.

His helpfulness soon died out as police offers escorted him away from the fire. He knew better than to argue with them that he was helping. The longer they had to deal with him, the less people who would get helped. So, he allowed himself to leave the situation, he met up with Ned, and he apologized again. "Go on, dude," Ned said, pushing him toward an alley. It was encouragement to be Spider-Man, which is what he was apologizing for in the first place.

When Peter wasn't wearing his suit but still wanted to bring it with him, he would use one of his more updated suits that Tony created. It was a different set of shooters than the ones he normally wore, and when he put them on, it would build the suit around him. He preferred the actual suit over this one which is why he rarely used it, but he wasn't exactly picky in dire situations. Seconds later, he was fully suited up and was swinging into the building. There had been an explosion. What if there was another one set up?

"Karen, scan this building for injured or trapped people, and then scan the area to see if you can find any more explosives."

Karen highlighted a few body shapes in the building, but none were moving. "The building is clear of people who-"

"-haven't died, yeah," Peter interrupted. "And the explosives?"

"Three blocks east. I'm picking up some sort of device. Signatures are very similar to the signatures of the blast in this building."

Peter swung through the window and to the building on his radar. He landed in front of the people near the building in question. "Everybody back away from here. Quickly, move, move," he said, ushering them away and then rushing to a police officer to tell her what was going on before he went into the building. Karen led him to the bomb which was, stereotypically, in a suitcase. "Will this thing blow me up if I open it?"

"I am unsure. I don't think it's wise for you to try."

"How big do you think that blast radius will be?"

"Likely similar to the blast of the first explosion."

It took all of his self-control not to sigh. He had just wanted to go spend some time over Ned's house after school. Now, he had a bomb sitting only inches away from him and a street full of people, some who were already injured. He hated feeling unsure of what to do, but he was very unsure of what to do. He could, maybe, take a blast. Possibly. But the people outside? There were enough dead bodies. Right before he started really panicking, though, he noticed someone else in the room with him who hadn't been there before. "Loki?"

"You're frightened," Loki observed. "And injured."

Peter was very clearly ignoring the blood and pain and the burning. He wasn't planning on recognizing it yet. Loki must have noticed it before the suit came on, because with the suit, his injuries were hidden. "What are you doing here?"

"I was wandering the city when I heard the explosion. I was, admittedly, not going to get involved and instead observe. I, of course, am not supposed to be away from home. Then, I saw you. An Avenger even without the suit. A scared child who dealt with the situation despite being a scared child." He paused, glancing down at the bomb Peter was kneeling in front of. "Step back." When Peter did, Loki simply waved his hand and a box appeared over the device. "If it goes off, the blast will be contained."

"It is…too cool that you can just _do that_," Peter said dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

"The situation is under control. You should return to your friend and get to safety."

"But-"

"You are hurt, child."

"I know that I'm young, but you don't have to keep referring to me as a child. From what I understand, you were doing more than just what I do at my age. Or, I guess, my age relative to how you age."

"That is a fair response. I apologize if I've offended you at all. However, injuries do need to be taken care of, and there isn't much else for you to do here. Everybody is out of danger. It's up to your healers now."

That was all the convincing it really took for Peter to nod his head and agree to leave. He swung out of the building after Loki _disappeared_ and found an empty space to have his suit dissipate from around him. He went back to where he had last seen Ned and saw that he was still standing there. "Dude, you look awful. Are you okay?" Ned asked when they were together.

"I hurt," he said.

Loki met back up with him then. Ned looked amazed briefly, but Loki urged them forward. "Call Stark. You need medical attention."

His back was on fire, and it was exposed to the air which only made it sting more. He got burned from the explosion, he knew. With how badly his back was on fire, Ned would have been severely hurt if not killed without his protection. It was definitely worth it, but that didn't mean he wanted to suffer through the pain longer than he had to. He just wanted to go home, take a shower, and watch some funny movie to distract his mind. He pulled his (new) phone out of his pocket, found Tony's contact, and called him. He had two missed calls from Tony. Tony answered on the first ring. "I heard there was an explosion in Queens. _Please_ tell me that Queens is big enough that every bad thing that happens there doesn't include you."

"I have bad luck," Peter said. "Can you come get me?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Not that bad."

Loki grabbed his phone out of his hands and put it up to his ear instead. "Stark, hello, yes, I'm not where I'm supposed to be, let's deal with that later. He needs medical attention almost immediately…I wasn't going to take his phone, but he was downplaying his injuries…He doesn't seem concussed, no…His injuries seem to be mostly his back…Burns. He's bleeding more than someone with healing should be. In his own words, he told me he heals, 'stupid fast', yet he is bleeding like any normal mortal." He paused again, letting Tony talk, before he gave the phone back to Peter.

"Dad?"

"When I ask if you're hurt, I'd like an honest answer. I don't want to have to rely on everybody else to tell me how hurt my kid is."

"It doesn't _feel_ that bad. I mean, it hurts, but more in a, 'I need to sleep this off' kind of way. I don't know. I…" He closed his eyes briefly, taking a second to reign in his emotions. "Not everyone made it, and I'm kind of, I don't know, emotional, I guess. I'm sorry. Me and Ned hadn't made it back to his house yet. It happened _right_ next to us, and I felt it too late. Ned was almost…"

"Hey, man," Ned interrupted, "I'm okay. 100% okay. Well, 95%. Some scratches. I'm okay."

"But _still_, Ned," Peter stressed. "And then Loki was just there suddenly and helping keep the peace and he contained the second bomb, and he called me a child a couple times, and I feel a lot like a child when something happens _when I'm not in the suit_."

"Pete."

"Yeah?"

"Take a breath. I hear the panic. You're okay. You did good. I don't have to know all the details to know that. Take a second. You're okay. Ned is okay. If you're worried about Loki, he's okay. I need you to focus for me. Assess your injuries. Loki said it's your back. Talk me through the problem."

Loki, during all of this, had taken off his own jacket and let it fall on Peter's shoulders to protect the burnt skin. They didn't get a lot of stares since most people seemed to be focused on the horror still happening behind them, but they did get a few worried glances. They walked into a shop and Loki talked to the workers to apologize for coming in all bloody (and say no to an ambulance) while Peter talked to Tony. "My back was towards the explosion. It _burns_."

"Do you think you'll be able to swing back to the Tower? Or do you think you'll be able to wait for someone to make it to you? Or do you think you should wait at the hospital? Answer _honestly_, Pete. Loki thinks you need medical attention almost immediately."

"It doesn't feel like I need it. Well, I know I do, but not urgently or anything. It just hurts. I don't want an Iron Man appearance over this. I don't think it's that bad. I could probably make it back, but I'd rather not. I could wait for someone to get me."

Tony was quiet for a few seconds, but because of the seriousness of everything, it felt like he was quiet for a lot longer. "Will you be okay for fifteen minutes?"

"How are you gonna make that drive in fifteen minutes? That's how long it takes me to swing to school."

"Mind your own business," Tony said. A small joke. Less serious. It worked for Peter. "I have your location. Try to stay where you are, okay? Okay, wait, bad parenting alert. Are you safe?"

"I think so. We're just in some shop. I hear sirens still, but, like, not from right outside or anything."

"Stay where you are if you stay safe, don't fight if you're not. Okay?"

"I won't."

"Good," Tony said, and then the line went dead.

Peter looked over at Ned who was on the phone with his mom, giving her reassurance that he was okay. He then looked over to Loki, who had been standing nearby after he talked to the workers. He pulled his wallet out of his bag (which was, after finally being able to examine it, lucky to be held together) and walked throughout the small shop. He grabbed a bag of chips and a thing of cookies immediately. He was starving after the short-lasting excitement. He couldn't find clothes anywhere, but he had Loki's jacket anyways. He grabbed some alcohol wipes and Band-Aids to deal with Ned's few cuts. At the register, he grabbed three bottles of water.

The worker, at first, tried to deny him the second he set his wallet on the counter. "You just went through an experience," she said. "It's on the house."

There was no moment ever that he had pulled the Tony Stark card, but he tiredly did then. "I know you're just being a good person trying to look after whoever you could, but I'm Tony Stark's kid. I have plenty of money. More than enough to pay for snacks. _Please _accept it."

After some hesitation, she did begin to ring him out. He told her to keep the change and slid over another ten-dollar bill ("This is for letting us loiter.") before he grabbed the bags and walked back over to Loki and Ned. He sat on the floor, opened the chips, and took a few before motioning for Ned to sit down next to him. "Let me take care of you before your mom gets here. Save her some freak out."

"I can take care of myself," Ned said, trying to grab the alcohol wipes from Peter before Peter snatched them back away.

"Now you get to know what it feels like to be Peter Parker. Now, shut up and let me help." He handed Ned a bottle of water and tossed one up to Loki who just raised an eyebrow. "What's that look for?"

"Is it normal for people to just buy snacks for their companions, or is it a you thing?"

Ned snorted. "'A you thing,'" he quoted.

"I think it's a normal thing. Maybe not in _this_ situation, but, you know," Peter said with a shrug. "I'm starving and I'm sharing."

"You gonna let me clean up your back next?"

"I'd rather wait for Tony," Peter admitted. He hurt too much to want it touched. He'd rather wait for the pain medicine he'd get before letting anyone near it.

It didn't take long for Peter to clean up the dried-up blood and the wounds, some of which were still kind of bleeding but not really. He did a once over to see if he could find any blood coming through Ned's clothes, but he couldn't. Peter himself and Ned's backpack did enough protection there, and Ned had his hands over his head. His hands and arms were a little cut up, as was some of his face, but he was mostly okay. Peter didn't feel better about it until he was all finished. He slid the package of cookies wordlessly over to Ned and took a large gulp of water before eating more chips. His back was really starting to burn to the point that just shifting his position felt like he was pulling at his skin. That probably meant he was working on healing but all in the wrong way. No matter how quickly he healed, he still needed to get it dealt with before the real healing began. It needed cleaned out of dried blood and any remaining debris (which, he knew there had to be plenty). He did nothing with this knowledge, though, instead deciding to lay his head against the wall and close his eyes.

"This is our life now," Ned commented.

"What _was _it? I don't want to seem narcissistic, but…" Peter didn't finish his sentence. They were in public, even if the only other people around were two store workers and they were probably too far away to hear. He had to be vague about Spider-Man.

"I can't believe this is my first ever time meeting Loki," Ned observed.

"Nice to meet you, friend of Peter," Loki said.

"Ned, meet Loki. Loki, Ned," Peter tiredly said.

"We can still build our Legos another time."

"I know, man. We'll build _so_ many Legos the next time I come over."

"What are these 'Legos'?" Loki asked. Ned, almost personally offended by the _alien's_ ignorance of a _children's toy_, then took his time to explain in great detail what Legos were, with Peter only contributing to the one-person monologue a couple of times because Ned didn't need the help. Peter started to get more and more drowsy as Ned's talking continued. It just felt wrong. The drowsiness wasn't the good type of drowsiness.

Peter pulled his phone back out to text Tony because this was the kind of thing he should text his dad.

**Peter:** I don't feel right

**Tony:** I need more details there

**Tony:** What's the problem

**Peter:** I don't know exacty

**Peter: **Exactly*

**Tony: **Is this a mental or physical thing

**Peter:** Physical

**Tony: **What are you doing

**Peter:** Nm. Sitting

**Peter: **Ned is talking to Loki about Legos

**Peter:** I had some snacks and water and I sat down. I felt mostly ok until a few minutes ago

**Peter: **Kinda quesy

**Peter:** Quesay

**Peter: **Queasy ?

**Tony:** Queasy. Why do you think you're feeling queasy?

**Peter:** I think I'm healing funny

**Tony:** You're healing?

**Peter:** Yeah

**Peter:** It hurts

**Peter:** I know I'm not healing right

**Tony:** Did you get it cleaned?

**Peter:** No

**Peter:** Want pain medicine

**Tony:** It hurts that bad?

**Peter:** Really does

**Peter: **How much longer?

**Tony:** Steve and Bucky should be almost there

**Peter:** Not you?

**Tony:** They were closer, Pete

Closer they were, because the door opened and Steve and Bucky both walked in. Bucky was the one who walked up to Peter, kneeling beside him. "What's up, bud?" he asked. "You're hurt?"

"Yeah," he answered, and he wordlessly held out a hand for Bucky to grab and help him to his feet. Ned was gathering the mess up in a bag and standing up, too. "Can we go?"

"We're going," Bucky said. "Steve will be our mule and carry your stuff for you. How kind of him."

Peter laughed a little at that and said thanks to Steve who nodded in response before turning to Loki. "What are you doing away from the Tower?"

"Exploring," he said. "I will wait here with Peter's friend, Ned, for his guardians, and then I'll be back to check in on Peter."

It was evident on Steve's face that he wanted to argue, so Peter jumped in. "He helped. A lot. I'd feel better knowing that someone was here with Ned in case something happened."

That was a little bit of the guilt card, but he didn't feel bad about it. "If Peter wants to trust you, then we'll trust you. Stay safe, Ned," Steve said and then held the door open for Bucky and Peter. Bucky, by the way, was supporting most of Peter's weight. When the door was closed, Steve walked back in front of them to open the car door. "How you holding up?"

"Not okay," he said, sliding into the backseat without Bucky. He shut the door and leaned heavily against the door. After standing up, he realized how badly he was shaking. "Something's wrong."

"What's going on?" Bucky asked as Steve walked around the car to jump in the driver's seat.

"I'm tired. The bad type of tired."

"Concussion?" Steve asked.

"Don't think so. Loki doesn't think so, either."

"We'll hurry to the Tower, okay? Think you can stick with us until then?"

"Talk to us about what happened," Bucky said. "Give us the story."

"Someone set up an attack. There were two bombs. The first one went off on our way home from school. I felt it, pushed Ned away from the building, and it went off. I got him away, but I was okay enough to keep helping, so I did. There was this girl _with no arm_. A few people died…when I got in the suit, I found the second one. I was trying to figure out how to deal with it, but Loki was there. I saw him before. He was trying to help keep the peace, I guess, after he saw me helping. He conjured something that went over the box to contain it when it went off. We left afterwards and into that store."

"Tony said your back was hurt?" Steve questioned.

"I had my back towards the explosion, and we were close."

Bucky and Steve kept taking turns asking him questions about the situation and just keeping him talking in general, but the pain was growing faster than it should considering the fact that he was healing at the same time. When he realized he was sweating, he got pretty concerned for his general health. It wasn't warm in the car, yet he was hot. He wasn't doing anything anymore. He wasn't having a panic attack. He was also freezing all of a sudden. Which meant that he probably had a fever. "I need to get to the Tower," he said, interrupting Bucky, who was only asking about how school was.

"Peter, what's going on?" Steve asked as Bucky turned around to investigate.

"Geez, you're sweaty," Bucky commented. He reached back with his human hand and placed it on Peter's cheek and then forehead. "I didn't know you could get fevers."

"I didn't either," Peter said. "I haven't since the bite."

"That's probably not good," Steve said. "Call Tony Stark." Peter was almost confused at first before remembering the fact that they lived in the 21st century and Steve was caught up pretty well with modern technology.

The car started ringing and then Tony's voice filled the air. "How's my kid?"

"Feverish."

"He has a _fever_? He probably has an infection, because he can't catch the common cold or even the flu anymore, and if the fever is setting in not even an hour after the injury, it's fast acting, and his healing isn't doing him any favors. You're probably not even close to being at the Tower, are you?"

"Not at all. Looks like he's going to need an Iron Man rescue anyways," Bucky said. He had climbed into the backseat with him by this point and was checking his pulse. "Heart's beating pretty fast. Breathing, too."

He wasn't aware he was breathing faster than usual. "Shit," Tony said. "I'm on my way. Get out of traffic because I'm not waiting for you to."

"Understood," Steve said.

"I don't feel right."

"Pete?" Tony called out. "You gonna hold on for me, buddy?"

Bucky grabbed the side of his face and made him look up. "You feel spacey?" he asked, and Peter nodded. "He wasn't this out of it a few minutes ago."

Tony must have been waiting for the go-ahead to come because he was there only a minute or so later. Steve had just pulled over onto the side of the road, so Bucky opened the door and hopped out for Tony. Tony, mask off, was peering in at Peter. "Hey, kid," he said. "Get out. Let's head back to the Tower." Peter swung his legs over and stood up, and before he was even fully standing, his vision blurred, and he grabbed onto Tony to keep from falling. His stomach turned at the same time. "You okay?"

"Not really," he answered. "Might puke."

"Ew," Tony joked. "Think you can keep it in for a minute?"

"Maybe. Can we go?"

Tony picked Peter up and, after a brief warning, took off towards the Tower. When he landed, he set Peter down and had to catch him before he fell. He walked them inside and called out to Friday. "Call Banner."

There was silence while Friday connected them, but then Bruce's voice could be heard. "What's up, Tony?"

"You're not too busy, right? Good. Can you meet us in medical?"

"Who's 'us' and which one of you is hurt?"

"Me and the kid. Pete has some sort of infection."

"Doesn't his body fight those?"

"What I think is happening here is that his body tried to heal around an injury that hasn't been properly taken care of," Tony said. They had gotten in the elevator by that point and Tony turned Peter around, taking the jacket off of his shoulders. "Yikes, kid. He has shrapnel in his back that's _still in there_ while he heals. Pete, what were you thinking?"

"Hurts."

And Tony sighed, because they already talked about that. "Yeah, you wanted your pain meds, didn't you?"

The elevator stopped at medical and Tony basically carried Peter off of it. Bruce was already there, so he probably hadn't been far. He helped Peter climb up on the table and Bruce immediately started checking him out. Heart rate, blood pressure, all the fun stuff. "Low blood pressure, high heart rate, 103.2 fever."

"He says he feels spacey," Tony supplied.

Bruce went around the table to look at his back, and he let out a little hum when he saw it. "_Half_ of these cuts look infected. I think he has sepsis."

That was a worrisome word for Tony to hear. "How can you tell?"

"He has all the symptoms _and_ an underlying infection. I'm gonna run a blood test and start him on an IV. Looks like his healing doesn't always work the way we hope it does."

"Dad," Peter said, and Tony looked over at him. "Ned was almost hurt."

"Almost," Tony repeated. "But he wasn't. Is that why your back is so messed up? Don't answer that. Of _course_, that's the reason."

"A lot of people died. Ned could have been one of them. Please don't be mad at me."

Tony sighed because Peter was actually going to kill him one day. "I'm not mad at you, kid. You're gonna be fine. Brucey here is gonna take good care of you."

"I hate when you call me that," Bruce remarked. He was gathering what he needed to put an IV in Peter and the antibiotics. Before he did put any of that in, he got ready to take blood. "I have to figure out a good dosage to give you for these antibiotics, but it shouldn't be too much of a problem. I think I'll be able to whip something up if your body doesn't want to take these antibiotics if it comes down to it. Arm out, Peter." Peter obliged and after a minute, Bruce was putting an IV in. "Alright, Peter, lay down on your stomach, okay? Let's get your back taken care of."

"Medicine?"

"Just gave you your pain medicine. It'll kick in soon. Lay."

It took probably too long, but Bruce was able to get Peter's back taken care of. There was a lot of shrapnel still stuck in his back that his body tried to heal around, which essentially trapped the bacteria and made it more difficult for his body to be able to naturally fight the infection off. Bruce was also able to figure out a dosage of antibiotics that worked for his immune system. His healing started picking up once the antibiotics kicked in. The medicine, in short, reset his accelerated healing. Peter was feeling much better.

Peter was laying in his bed in his room at the end of the day when there was a knock on the door. When he called out for them to enter, he saw Bucky. "Hey, pal," Bucky greeted. "How you feeling?"

"Better," Peter said. Normally, he would have sat up and seemed more of a host for this guest, but he was tired. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to check up on you." Bucky walked over and sat down on the other side of the bed. "I also figured you would want an update on what happened today. Better to get the news tonight and start new tomorrow rather than drag it out over two days."

"So wise."

"I think you're being a smartass." Peter made a noncommittal noise and Bucky chuckled before turning serious again. "It doesn't seem like it was a personal attack against you. Looks like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, no matter how cliché that is. It was a terrorist attack. No suspects have been named yet."

"Then how do you guys know that it wasn't for me?"

"We did enough digging ourselves to figure out if this would be an Avengers issue. We'll leave the rest of the work to the police."

"Life sucks sometimes," Peter sighed. He set his phone down and reached for the TV remote on his nightstand. "Wanna watch something funny?"

Bucky kicked his shoes off and turned to sit properly on the bed, leaning on the wall with his legs laying flat in front of him. "You better find something pretty freaking funny."

"I know, like, ten comedians. Bet."


End file.
